Resident Evil: Outpost
by T 575
Summary: Set in 'Extinction'. Survivors hide away in a forgotten military base in the desert, it becomes clear that their position is no longer safe to the surrounding danger outside and within the survivors are no longer safe to each other. Language and violence.


**RESIDENT EVIL**

**ACT ONE- Chapter one**

**Disclaimer: 'Resident Evil' belongs to Capcom. **

**Featured characters also belong to them.**

Lydon Military Base: FEB.17.2008. 3:30am, Bruce McGivern had awakened to the sound of his alarm clock buzzing relentlessly. He opened his eyes as he did every morning. But nothing was the same. Something felt off. He sprang up in bed, alert as a fox, grabbing his .45 pistol from beside the bed and aiming it around the dark, barracks of the military base. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead. As his morning eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realised the entire room was empty, all of the beds were left deserted, all of his comrades were on manoeuvre whilst he remained behind as a punishment for disobedience. He sighed, shaking his head remembering why he was left behind in the first place. McGivern looked to the door, closed. Falling back against the sheets, he let the buzzing continue to remind himself that he was still awake, he let his gun slip from his tight grip with relief. The blond-haired Texan blinked, running a hand through his hair before reaching over to the buzzing digital clock he brought from home, pressing in the red button with his thumb, making the irritating sound stop ringing in his ears.

As Bruce lay there, he realised how badly he needed to urinate and hopped out of his bed, jumping slightly at the coldness of the floor. Moments later he stood over a urinal, leaking like a horse into the porcelain. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes as he continued to empty his bladders, thinking continuously as to why he was left behind while the rest of his unit are out there combating the Umbrella Corporations messed up creations. Though, he honestly couldn't say that he was too disappointed, every day of this new year 2008, he had spent his time wiping out dozens of walking corpses that had overrun the planet. He remembers each of their faces and feels sorrow for their lost souls. He cared too much for the loss of the humanity. So much in fact that he had become an obstacle in his previous shakedown of un-dead life. He hated the attitude's the other had taken to taking out the creatures, they fought as if it were a sport, and he thought they deserved some respect for what they used to be.

He left his pissed off state of mind and stopped pissing, shaking himself off before putting himself back in his pants and washing his hands and face in the sink. The Alpha team wouldn't be back until at least 12, which is when Bravo will take over until late evening. The rotation was tough and tired out everyone as well as their resources. He knew that they wouldn't be able to put out forever. The zombies and all of the other Umbrella creations would eventually overpower their forces. They all knew it. Bruce understood why they left him back this time, his pessimistic attitude, although true, brought down morale, and the captains needed the men ready and willing. Knowing that they will all die at some point was kind of a downer. The base is situated in the middle of the desert, Unit Alpha leave at the early morning and shakedown the surrounding area, and cleaning the location of anything which would threaten their lives. Then, once Alpha returned, Bravo would replace them. And the rotation had gone on life that for two solid months.

Bruce looked at himself in the dirty, cracked mirror, he wondered why he stayed here. There was no laws or rules of which he was subject to. He could just leave any time he wanted. But he knew that wasn't smart, there was no way that he would manage to survive on his own with very little resources. But then he began to think, if maybe he did leave in a small team of others here, he may have a chance to get out and find a safer place than this old base which was almost constantly under attack. He sank slightly, realising, once again that they would be no chance of survival even if he had backup, and besides, he thought, he couldn't leave the team, they had become somewhat of a family, watching each others backs. If he ran out, he'd look cowardly, and he certainly wasn't.

After a few minutes, McGivern was sat at the lookout post, looking out on the desolate desert sands. He had his eyes fixed on a single walking un-dead far off in the distance, he had a lock-on with his sniper rifle, the X positioned at the creatures head. He never looked away, nor did he blink as he pulled the trigger, permanently dropping the lone walking dead in it's place. Bruce casually saluted the fallen foe as he reloaded his rifle effortlessly. This is what he had to do every time he got on the bad side of the captain. Just sit up in the tower taking aim at approaching enemies. He had a full 360degree view of their surroundings, and a rifle. Sitting up here all day would drive him insane so he leant back against the chair and closed his eyes for a short while. The tower was very hot, half the time he had to hold his gun with a cloth to prevent getting burns from the heated metal. It was especially hot today, Bruce had shed all of his weapons and gear to prevent himself from dying of heat exhaustion. If this wasn't a punishment, he'd rather be in Hell.

As time went on, he got hotter and hotter, he was laid back relaxed against the door of the tower. And if it wasn't bad enough, the sun was heating up the glass to incredible temperatures, creating a greenhouse effect on the inside. Buckets of sweat were dripping down his face. Nothing was out there. He kept an eye open, watching for Alpha returning. But they never did return. Not even after Bruce fell asleep and was awoken by biting freezing temperatures of night time at the outpost. Bruce stood up switching on a spotlight on the pitch black desert. He wondered why the team hadn't returned. His breath formed as a fog in the dark room. He quickly ran downstairs, Bravo team were about to leave to search for the now confirmed missing Alpha team. The team were fully geared up and entering the Humvee. As he approached the large vehicle, he was stopped by a Bravo team member.

"Oh, no you don't buddy boy. Your staying home today." Said Lem Friedman, the asshole second in command of Bravo team whom Bruce hated.

"I'm coming." Bruce insisted, sternly staring Lem face to face, as tensions rose between the two. The Bravo team member pushed Bruce back. Lem had always constantly taken abuse to him for no reason, now Bruce had had enough with his attitude. He very confidently stood up against him, punching him in the jaw with such force, one of Lem's teeth was cleanly broken out of his mouth. "Shit!" Lem yelled as he wiped blood from his face, jumping on top of McGivern, forcing him to the ground, punching him in the gut. He yelled out, fighting back roughly. Immediately, other Bravo guys came and pulled Lem off of Bruce. "Al right, McGivern..." He said, spitting blood from his mouth as Bruce was pulled up. "I'll get you yet you cocksucker, watch your back..." as he threatened, Bruce was held back by Ark Thompson, the main guy at the outpost in charge of internal security.

"Calm down Bruce." The light brown haired man ordered, holding back the enraged man. Just as Lem is held back by the rest of Bravo team, who begin to load themselves into the vehicle, along with the destructive Lem. "He's gone." Ark assured as they stood watching the vehicle pull away, out into the desert.

"What the Hell happened?" A voice behind the two men forced them to turn around to see the Outpost's strategic commander; Barry Burton. The heavy man approached the two, watching as the recently dispatched Bravo Team sped away. The three men remained quiet as Bruce looked at Barry. He stared silently as Ark went to close the main doors to prevent any of the un-dead from creeping inside. Barry sighed and shook his head at Bruce. "They aren't coming back."


End file.
